Unfinished Business

Chapter Eight

Sam Wright had a scheduling conflict. He had the unfortunate circumstance of needing to be two places at once. He very much wanted to be at the school to inform Beth's teacher that Robyn Sommers would be retrieving his daughter after school for the next two weeks.

Mark, however, already well known by the young blonde who was Bethany's teacher, volunteered to step in on his behalf. He'd insisted that any excuse to see the 'lovely Ms. Kirkland' was a good excuse. Sam had merely shaken his head at his friend's obvious nature, and informed Sauterbrandt's secretary that he agreed to the change in the delivery date of the contract items. He hadn't known that the change in plans included a surprise visit from the man himself.

If it was possible, the man looked more gaunt than he had the last time Sam had seen him. But his eyes were sharp and his grin mischievous as he was helped from the van and wheeled toward Sam by an assistant.

"I've surprised you haven't I?" The elderly man seemed inordinately pleased with that knowledge. "I hope this doesn't mean that you're disappointed by my presence." His soft, gravelly voice was tinged with amusement.

"I'm hardly disappointed," Sam informed him. "But I'll give you surprised." The assistant brought the wheelchair to a halt in front of Sam and then excused himself and moved back toward the van. Sam supposed that meant that he was to take over the task. He moved to the back of the chair at the older man's gesture.

"Would you like to examine the security systems. I assure you--"

"No, no." He was cut off. "We've been over all of the business details already. This is the real thing. Among all of this art are some of my greatest treasures. One doesn't pass on great treasures impersonally. It should be done hand to hand, face to face.

"Alas, my capabilities are somewhat less than they used to be. So, I make do." Sauterbrandt paused, his words fading as he gave Sam a long measuring look. Then, seeming satisfied with what he saw, he nodded.

"You're young. Strong. Maybe headstrong, hmm?" He softened the words with a smile. "You remind me of myself when I was your age."

Sam wasn't sure where the conversation was going, but it didn't seem to have much to do with the business at hand. He remained attentive to the old man's words, however, out of respect for the man. Besides, he was old enough to be his grandfather, and had just handed him the largest, most lucrative contract in his company's history. If the man wanted to talk, he would listen. There was one question he wanted to ask, though. He saw his opening in Sauterbrandt's statement.

"Is that why you awarded a portion of the work to my company?"

"You have me there. I admit, that is why. Sentimental I know. But I won't apologize for it. Sometimes reminders are good. You reminded me of when I, too, was trying to grow a business."

"Someday I hope to find similar success."

Sauterbrandt frowned, a far away look coming into his eyes. "Do not make the mistake of measuring success with things. There are other, more important, guides. The love of a family, of friends. Peace within one's own self."

"Then you must be successful indeed. You have a large family, and you've obviously made peace with yourself."

"No," the elderly gentleman shook his head sadly. "Appearances can be very deceiving. Teach your daughter well, Samuel. If you measure success in things, she will grow to do that also." He held Sam's eyes intently, leaning slightly forward in the chair. It was as if he could instill the important of the words by mere force of will. And then he settled back, exhaustion washing over his face.

"I'll keep that in mind." Sam told him. A flicker of thought concerning the box of items that Sauterbrandt had given him for Beth popped into his head. He vaguely recalled Mark putting it in his car all those nights ago when he'd been mugged. Pushing the discomforting thought aside, he changed the subject. "Would you like a tour of the place while the truck is unloaded?"

"Yes, please. That would be wonderful. Do show me your business."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Many hours later, the crew having long since gone, Sam sat behind his desk mulling over his records. There was still so much to do, but his eyes were beginning to cross with exhaustion. The adventures of the day before had been a guarantee for a night of insomnia. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he glanced at the clock in the bottom corner of his monitor. The flashing timer warned him that he should have been home 20 minutes prior.

Great. Just great. Ms. Sommers' first day on the job and he was about to demonstrate that he was a forgetful father. Twenty-four hours removed from the incident, and he was beginning to wonder if he hadn't overreacted in hiring protection for his daughter. Sandra would never harm the child -- not physically, anyway. Besides, all of the locks had been changed, and the after school teachers would never allow anyone not on the approved list to have a child.

As he mulled possible ways to break the news, something changed in the atmosphere of the room. The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. His hand froze halfway toward pushing the button that would cut the power to his monitor. He continued the motion slowly, trying to come to terms with the feeling. As the bright screen faded to black, that's when he saw it. A distorted face was reflected there.

He spun in his chair, reacting to the intense burst of adrenaline that invaded his system. Partially open floor to ceiling vertical blinds and the fleeting hint of a shadow greeted him. He pushed up out of the chair and threw the blinds aside to peer out of the window. There was nothing. He could see no one there.

He closed the blinds securely and fell back into his chair. Had he imagined the whole thing? Was there someone out there, waiting for him? The uncomfortable edge of fear pervaded his consciousness.

The overloud ringing of the phone startled him out of his chair. It was Robyn Sommers. She wanted to make sure he was okay, and when would he be home.

Chapter Nine